


Badly Done

by spidermanhomecomeme



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jane Austen Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Matchmaking, But also, Emma AU, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry Osborn is a mess, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, MJ is Mr. Knightly, Matchmaking, Michelle Jones is a Saint, Misunderstandings, Mr. Harrington has big Miss Bates energy (tm), Peter Parker is a Dumbass, Peter is Emma, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spidermanhomecomeme/pseuds/spidermanhomecomeme
Summary: “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”Peter, a well-meaning dumbass, won’t stop meddling in the love lives of his friends. Becoming too engrossed in his new matchmaking "skill," he almost misses hisownchance at finding love.AnEmmaAU.
Relationships: Background Happy Hogan/May Parker - Relationship, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, background Betty Brant/Ned Leeds
Comments: 40
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!! So this has been something that's been sitting in my WIP folder for some time now and have been dying to show you guys for A LONG TIME, and Spideychelle Week just kinda gave me the inspiration to finally get it ready to post! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Ned’s not sure he’s ever been so nervous in his life.

He can’t stop the way his leg is bouncing up and down, the way his palms are sweating, the way the only two things he can currently think about are how much he thinks the Star Wars prequels are slept on and how pretty his date looks as she sips on her vanilla latte. When her gaze flashes up to meet his, blue eyes peeking up from under dainty lashes, he’s struck with how right his best friend is. 

Betty Brant is the only girl for him. 

Ned huffs out a single nervous laugh, his finger tapping rhythmically against his thigh as his breath struggles to find purchase. Betty glances away, a shyness to the smile that pokes out from behind her cup. 

He opens his mouth, about to speak, when—

_Bzzt._

His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he doesn’t dare look at it while he’s on a date, much less a date with the woman of his dreams. While it’s a fact that neither of them are currently speaking, both of them too overcome with giddiness to form anything close to the english language, no matter how much Ned’s stomach is swirling, he refuses to appear rude.

However, in the very next moment, Betty kindly excuses herself to the restroom, smoothing the skirt of her yellow dress as she stands. 

Ned watches her disappear into the back corner of the coffee shop, failing to wipe the dopey grin off of his face. 

_Bzzt._

Once again jarred back to reality, he reaches for his phone, the screen lighting up with now two text messages, both of them from his best friend-slash-matchmaker.

 **_Peter:_ ** _why aren’t you guys talking_

 **_Peter:_ ** _ask about her scrapbooks!!_

Brows furrowing in confusion, Ned’s gaze darts about the room, wondering how on earth Peter could have possibly known that there was no current conversation happening. 

_Bzzt._

**_Peter:_ ** _turn around :)_

And he does, seeing his best friend in his classic blue and red suit waving at him through the window. Spider-Man gives a firm two-thumbs up before leaping away. 

Betty returns a moment later, her eyes cast downward as she sits. She takes another sip of her coffee. 

Ned taps his fingers against the edge of the table, once again finding himself struggling for an inch of breath. “Any cool scrapbooking projects lately?” He offers with a bashful shrug. 

An easy, yet timid grin stretches across her face as she looks up.

-

Peter holds his phone to his chest, peeking around the corner, through the window once more, a knowing smile underneath his mask. Holding himself up along the outside wall of the coffee shop, his stomach erupts in dozens of little butterflies at the mere prospect of his two friends finding happiness with each other. 

And it is all because of him. 

He’d known that neither Betty nor Ned would have ever taken that first leap into romance had it not been for the gentle push Peter had enthusiastically given. It had all been so obvious. He’d seen the way those two looked at one another: the fleeting, blushy glances, the nervous, babbling chatter. 

It was the least he could do. 

After all, he’d always felt that he had a knack for this sort of thing; an eye for a perfect match. And not just in love, but in friendship as well. He could meet a person, instantly taking in all of their best qualities, and he’d easily find that person’s equal. 

It was a gift, he might say. 

It had worked with his Aunt. As much as it had pained him to do so, setting her up with Mr. Stark’s Forehead of Security—a one Happy Hogan—he had found it nearly impossible to ignore the sparks that struck the air between them when he first witnessed them speak. Her happiness came before anything else, and—with what he’d say was the same careful subtlety—he’d convinced the two to pursue their budding romance. 

With another glance, he peers into the window, suppressing the urge to pat himself on the back seeing Betty reach her hand out and place it over Ned’s. 

Two-for-two is not bad. 

Checking the time, he realizes that he has less than ten minutes to make it back to his apartment. Smile still beaming from under the red fabric of his mask, he leaps into the air, swinging from building to building with an enthusiasm that he can’t shake. He whoops and hollers with each bound, the pride and joy he feels for his best friend unmatched. 

Of course, he will miss Ned—in the event that Ned and Betty inevitably announce their relationship to the world of Midtown Tech. It’s not as if Peter won’t see him as much, but he knows deep down that things will be different. A good different, but still different. He knows very well that he and Ned will always have their movie nights, LEGO nights, Beast Slayer nights, and of course, patrol nights. Ned will always be his _guy-in-the-chair_. 

Peter comes upon the seventh story window with a gentle thud, sliding the window open and gracefully landing on the wooden floor below. His heart still singing, he practically leaps out of his suit, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans from the back of his chair. 

No, he’s not losing his best friend. Not in the slightest. 

Pulling on the blue t-shirt—one of his favorites that reads, _distance raptor-over-time raptor equals velociraptor_ —and grabbing his Acadec notebook, he sprints out through the door and into the hallway, stopping just outside the living room.

With a leap, he vaults himself over the back of the couch, plopping down on the side across from his co-captain and other best friend. 

Besides...

“You’re late,” she says, not even looking up from her book to acknowledge him.

He figures that he and MJ can always play the third and fourth wheel together. 

Peter checks his watch, just to be sure. “By like—a minute!” He spouts defensively. 

She hums, lips pursing slightly as she turns the page of the novel she seems so engrossed in. A beat passes before she continues. “How’s your day been?”

Slightly startled by the question, Peter does a double-take at her, his gaze flitting back and forth. “Good…” He trails off, settling into the soft cushions after pulling his notebook from his backpack. “You?”

“Fine,” she says simply, finally closing her book and placing it on the coffee table.

There’s another silence that passes as they get their study materials together. Being co-captains with MJ wasn’t as stressful as he’d initially thought it might have been. Before now, he would be lying if he said the idea of working with her—one-on-one—seemed to put his insides into some kind of pandemonium. It wasn’t as if he _didn’t_ want to do this with her, far from it. MJ’s smart. Exceedingly so. It’s that he wasn’t sure how both of them having leadership positions might affect their friendship. Being co-captains would mean spending countless hours together prepping and planning for practices and meets. It would mean constant coordination and cooperation between the two of them. He’s always known that MJ values her solitude, and it was obvious that the two of them would have very different views when it came to effective leadership. 

But, as he’s found in the last few months, they are a surprisingly compatible duo. Her quiet calm and blunt honesty matched with his cheerful, upbeat positivity is unstoppable. 

“And how was Ned’s date?” She asks casually.

“It was good—” The question is asked _so casually_ that he almost doesn’t truly realize what she means. He stops himself, mouth clamping shut as he stares at her.

She quirks an eyebrow.

“...I assume,” he adds slowly. 

Her eyes narrow. 

Alright, so perhaps it’s true that he’d already promised her that he wouldn’t meddle in Ned’s love life anymore. Fine. And, yes, maybe he’d told her that he wouldn’t be going anywhere near the small coffee shop on the corner of Catalpa and Forest, _and_ that he would let Ned and Betty do their thing without trying to “butt in.”

So what?

“Before you ask,” Peter huffs, sitting back against the couch. “I was just checking on him.”

Michelle blinks. 

The collar of his shirt seems to stick to his neck. He shrugs innocently. “It’s not like I texted him what to say or anything—”

“Peter—”

“I didn’t!” 

She gives him a pointed look. 

And under her sharp gaze, he knows that he can’t lie to her. “Okay, fine. I did, but it was one thing!” At her silence, he rushes on. “I mean, why is it such a big deal? I’m just trying to help! He’s finally going out with Betty! Can’t you be happy for him?”

“I am happy for him,” MJ replies. “I just think you need to mind your business.”

“I know, I know,” Peter sighs. “I’m just trying to be a good wingman. I want to make sure this goes right and that he’s happy! What’s wrong with that?”

“One, Ned was happy before. A relationship doesn’t equate to happiness,” she shoots back without missing a beat. “And two, he’s not going to mess this up. It’s obvious that Betty likes him and that he likes her. If anything, you continuing to follow them around like some helicopter parent is what’s going to mess things up.”

“Hey.” Peter sits up. “In case you forgot it was _my_ ‘helicopter parenting’ that got him this date in the first place.”

“But that doesn’t mean you can keep—”

“—and just to remind you, I have been super chill about this.”

She shuts her mouth, blinking once. Twice.

“All I did was give him a _gentle nudge_ in her direction—”

“You literally pushed him into her.”

Peter groans. “Look, MJ, we can go on and on and on arguing about what really happened—”

“—When you pushed Ned in the hallway and he ran into Betty—”

“—But I’ll have you know that when I left their date—God, MJ, you should have _seen_ the smiles on their faces. They were so cute.” 

There’s the faintest upward twitch of a smirk tugging at her mouth, but she hides it well. “Fine. I believe you. But, seriously dude—you gotta stop getting involved in other people’s business. Like, what if you misinterpret something and make it worse? This, playing wingman, or whatever, was fine and all, but you can’t just _follow_ Ned while he’s on a date.”

“I really don’t see how there’s a problem here,” Peter says with a light scoff. “Like I said: I’m just being a good friend. No biggie.”

He’s surprised that her eyes don’t roll completely out of her head. The short, sharp exhale through her nose she seems to speak volumes, asking herself _why do I even bother?_

Though instead of arguing further like he expects, MJ changes the subject, finding no point in pressing the issue any further. “Alright, so we need to really focus on American Literature and Physics this week.”

“Yeah,” Peter nods, brows raising, his hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “Last week was kind of a disaster in—in those… areas…” 

As MJ continues, going over what she thinks might be best for the team, Peter wonders if she actually has a point—about the whole _matchmaker_ thing. Usually, if MJ’s arguing with him about something, be it small or big, she’s the one who ends up being right all along. And truly, he feels bad for just blowing her off, brushing aside her concerns in favor of his own feelings and beliefs, but then again—seeing the way Betty had been smiling at their best friend, seeing the way Ned had been so excited after she’d agreed to meet him for coffee...

Well, frankly, Peter still doesn’t see what the problem is. 

What he’s doing—well, it’s harmless. 

MJ doesn’t know what she’s talking about. 

And he continues to think that, his feelings only solidifying when Ned’s going on and on about Betty at lunch the next day, waxing poetic about how well their date went as he dips his french fries into a glob of ketchup. 

“And—and—and then I was like, _‘no, you are,’_ and she was like, _‘no, you are!_ ’”

Peter passes a satisfied glance to MJ, waggling his eyebrows. 

“And then _I_ was like, _‘you know what? I kind of am,’_ and oh my God, guys—she laughed so hard, her coffee almost came out of her nose, which, like probably would have hurt a ton but—ah, it was amazing.” There’s a dreamy smile on Ned’s face as he recounts the day before, a spark to his eyes that neither of his friends have seen since the third Star Wars movie title was revealed. He sighs, leaning his chin on his hand. 

“It sounds amazing,” Peter simpers, utterly pleased with himself as he throws a pointed stare in MJ’s direction. 

She meets his gaze, quirking a brow challengingly.

“Ugh, it was.” Ned grins, wistfully looking off into the distance. “I can’t wait to see her again. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Anytime, dude,” Peter replies before giving Michelle a playful nudge with the point of his elbow. “Did you hear that, MJ? He wants to see her again.”

Pressing her lips together into a tight smile, she nods. “I heard him.” 

“And…” Ned trails off, eyes darting left and right as he bites his bottom lip.

“And?” Peter and MJ say at the same time, leaning in.

Ned sits back, suddenly nonchalant. “We may or may not have kissed.”

Immediately, Peter throws his hand up, offering an enthusiastic high-five. “Yes! That’s awesome, Ned!” He gives Michelle another nudge. “Did you hear that MJ? _They kissed.”_

She throws a warning glare at the boy next to her, a muscle in her jaw twitching—the look giving him the inexplicable urge to laugh—but the expression is gone in a second before her mouth curves into a genuine smile as she looks to Ned. “That’s awesome, man. Happy for you.”

“Thanks, guys,” Ned replies, eyes tinted with wonder. 

Though there are now smiles all around, Peter can feel the daggers from MJ’s side-eyed glare poking into his side. The only reason that she’s so annoyed is because she knows that he’s right and she’s wrong. It’s as simple as that. And truly, he feels a sense of accomplishment; he feels a sense of pride, one that he has to stop himself from showing so explicitly, lest he fall victim to another one of her reprimanding roasts.

The conversation falls back into the norm, no longer focused on Ned’s newfound love life with Betty. Though, Peter did suggest other activities they could do on their next day, even offering to follow again—incognito in his spider-suit, of course. 

Surprisingly, Michelle has nothing to say about that bit in particular.

Soon, the bell rings, the two of them still chat as they go to empty their trays, Ned having dismissed himself earlier to walk Betty to her next class. 

As he heads for the double doors, Peter feels a hand in the crook of his elbow, and he looks over his shoulder to find MJ gently pulling him to the side. “Listen, Peter,” she says, her tone hushed as they walk side-by-side. “I was serious. I know Ned’s super happy now—I’m happy _for_ him—”

The same simpering smile comes back to his face, though he tries to suppress it. 

Her earnest expression drops, her tone defensive as her grip on his arm tightens ever so slightly. ‘What?”

“Nothing! Nothing.” Peter insists, trying to maintain a sense of innocence even as the smirk in his voice remains. “Continue.”

A beat passes before she speaks again. “But you gotta leave Ned and Betty alone. Give them their privacy, alright?” 

Peter rolls his eyes playfully, stopping just outside the Bio room, shaking his arm out of her hand. “MJ, come on—”

“I’m not kidding around, man.” 

“I know—”

“Do _not_ fuck this up for them, okay?” With a final, warning point of her finger as she walks ahead to her next class, she leaves him standing—dumbfounded—in the middle of the hallway.

“I won’t!” Peter calls after her, though the promise comes out a bit more defensive than he means it to. He’s unsure of if she even heard his reply, but he prides himself in knowing that he got the last word. Setting his jaw, he storms into the class, surprised to find Ned already sitting at their table. 

Mr. Dell starts his introduction on today’s lab, but his voice is drowned out by Peter’s own thoughts. He just can’t believe that MJ would have so little faith in him or his judgement. Well, maybe he can—just a little bit—but for her to think that he would be the sole reason that a relationship as new and sweet as Betty and Ned’s would be demolished? It doesn’t make any sense! 

Besides, what does MJ know? Peter’s been friends with Ned longer than she has. Peter knows that Ned tends to struggle with this sort of thing. He _needs_ Peter to be there for him, to help every step of the way. Sure, Peter’s no expert himself, and he doesn’t have the best track record in the field of romance—the prime example being the debacle with Liz Allan, the Homecoming dance, and her father being a criminal mastermind last semester—but being an outside eye watching from the sidelines makes things much easier. He can see things that Ned might not otherwise be able to in his own love-induced blindness. 

Peter is _helpful_ , damn it!

“Do you wanna weight the cabbage or add the sodium chloride?” 

Peter startles, turning to see Ned eyeing him expectantly, a ziploc bag of shredded cabbage in hand. 

“What?” 

Ned holds the bag up. “The experiment.”

“Oh—” Peter shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. “I’ll add the sodium chloride.”

“Cool,” Ned responds, giving a solid thumbs up as he opens the drawers of their table and pulls out a scale. 

Though Peter doesn’t know what exactly this experiment is—one-hundred percent due to the fact that he was much too busy being annoyed at MJ to listen to Mr. Dell’s instructions—he follows Ned’s example and starts reading over the lab objectives for the day. 

He’s halfway through number three— _to observe how some microbes alter their environment to compete with other microbes blah blah blah_ —when he hears the subtle click of the classroom door opening and closing. He looks up, seeing the school’s M-Z guidance counselor, Mrs. Yoder, standing with a new student as she talks with Mr. Dell. 

The new kid has this nervous, timid energy about him, one that Peter immediately picks up on. He stands slightly tucked into himself, his right hand holding his left arm—nearly covering up his _May the Mass Times Acceleration Be With You_ shirt—as he quietly listens to the two adults talk. Though, there’s the faintest spark of cheeriness when he looks up and offers a small smile at the teacher, holding his hand out to introduce himself. 

With another kind wave, Mrs. Yoder walks out from where she came, leaving the new student.

Their teacher, seeming to recognize for once that perhaps a student doesn’t want a big deal to be made of their entrance, guides the new guy further into the classroom. Peter instantly looks away, pretending as if he’s thoroughly engrossed in the lab instructions, when he sees that Mr. Dell is bringing him to their table. 

“Peter, Ned,” He starts, clapping his hands together. “This is Harry Osborn. He’s new.”

“Hey.” Peter throws an earnest, single wave.

Ned gives an easy nod. “Sup?” 

“Hey, guys,” Harry offers, his voice not nearly as confident as his smile—which isn’t very confident in the first place. 

“I’d ask if he could join your lab group, but—” Mr. Dell shrugs before backing away. “I’m not asking. Welcome Harry to your lab group. I’ll be at my desk.”

A beat passes as the new kid sets his things down, settling himself into one of the metal stools and scooting forward, flinching as it scrapes across the floor. 

“So…” Peter trails off, tapping his pencil against the top of the table. “Where are you from, Harry?”

“Chicago,” He answers, his hands folding into his lap. “My, uh—my parents and I moved here

“Oh, cool!” Ned says with a friendly enthusiasm.

Peter chimes in. “I’ve never been there.”

“Well, like—Chicago _area.”_ Harry corrects himself, letting out a nervous huff of laughter. “I’m—I’m actually from Park Ridge. It’s just that—normally when I say I’m from there, no one knows what I’m talking about. So I just… say… Chicago. I mean—my dad worked in the city but… we didn’t… live there.” Almost as soon as he finishes that sentence, his mouth shuts as he gives a tight-lipped grin. “I uh—I went to Maine East High School before coming here.”

“Still cool,” Peter offers kindly.

“Eh,” Harry shrugs, his knee bouncing under his clasped hands. “The only thing that’s actually cool about going there is that it’s where Harrison Ford graduated from.”

“No way! You went to the same high school as Han Solo?” Ned asks, his face lighting up. “That’s awesome, dude.”

Harry lets out a loud, clumsy laugh. “Right?”

Peter’s smile widens as he laughs with the other two boys. Already, after such a brief interaction, he can see that Harry’s going to fit in just fine with this little friend group. He’s almost one-hundred percent positive that MJ will like him, too. 

“Hey, um—” Harry coughs. “Do you think you guys could show me around later? Mrs. Yoder’s awesome and everything, and she already gave me the tour, but… I feel like I’ve already forgotten where everything is,” he adds sheepishly.

The two of them—Peter and Ned—exchange easy, somewhat knowing glances before they turn again to look at Harry. They both nod, mouths pulling into a friendly half-smiles as they answer in unison.

“Definitely.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again friends!! Thank you to everyone who read, commented and left kudos on the last chapter!! It makes me so happy seeing that you guys are already liking this story! I'm having such a fun time writing it! 
> 
> Enjoy this next chapter!!

Over the next few days, Peter has found himself growing increasingly fond of Midtown’s newest student. Harry Osborn’s place in the _Friends of Spider-Man_ —while not actually knowing Spider-Man’s true identity, much less that  _ that _ was what the group (mainly Peter and Ned) had referred to themselves as—soon becomes a settled thing. Wanting to make the their new friend feel welcome at Midtown Tech, Peter wastes no time in inviting him to tag along on whatever adventures he and his friends go on—even the ones where all they do is sit in May’s apartment, watch TV, and stuff their faces with junk food. 

And the qualities that they had first noticed in Harry only seem to grow given the amount of time they spend together. He’s a good guy; one with a kind and grateful disposition, a certain gentleness to him. One might even liken him to something of a Labrador Retriever. He’s exceedingly polite and good-natured, and almost immediately after he leaves the apartment after their first hang-out session, May demands that he be brought back every time after. 

MJ even seems to like him to a degree, though she’s not as forward with her judgement. She offers him genuine, closed-lipped smiles when he addresses her, and she listens intently as he speaks, her own withdrawn nature keeping her from expressing too much. And as always, she makes sure to throw a subtle, warning glance at Peter from time to time, though for the life of him, he cannot figure out what he might be doing to warrant such looks. 

In the second week of their newfound friendship with Harry, they invite him to come along on one of the Academic Decathlon team’s intermittent bowling nights, hoping that perhaps he might take an interest in joining officially.

Mr. Harrington is the first to greet them, ready in his own brightly colored bowling shirt and shoes. “Hey, gang!” He shouts with an awkward wave as he runs over to the five of them; them being Ned and his new girlfriend, Betty, and the rest being MJ, Peter, and Harry. 

The teacher stops, his hands on his hips as he tips forward slightly, his attention caught. “You must be Harry,” he states rather obviously. “Always nice to see a new face around here. Sometimes you just get tired of the same ones everyday, am I right?” He chuckles uncomfortably to himself, waving his own comment off, though Peter wonders if he detects the slightest hint of tired sincerity in that tone.

Mr. Harrington takes in a sharp breath. “Only kidding of course. I love my students. I’d never joke about not wanting to see them, and I’m more than excited to show you guys how good I am at bowling. Got my own custom shoes and everything. Ball’s over there in the bag, too. Eight pounder—uh… Peter—” He immediately cuts his own rambling off, seeing the collective and unanimous expressions on the teens’ faces, his mouth clamping shut as he points a finger to the student in question. “Did you get a haircut?”

Peter’s eyes dart left and right, the slightest pinch in his brow giving away the skepticism he tries to hide. “No…” He trails off into a single laugh. 

“Ah,” Mr. Harrington nods as another long silence falls over them. “Well…” He glances behind him, waving his hand wildly at the many lanes, before turning abruptly back to them, clapping his hands together. “Who’s ready to rock and bowl? Have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask the pro. It’s the one thing I’m actually qualified to teach you.” He swallows, eyes widening slightly. “Outside of school, obviously.”

Mr. Harrington—the faculty sponsor of the decathlon team—had always made a point to make himself known and available to any and all of the students in attendance. His life is a sad one. He had been married once, though that had appeared to be it; a wife who had faked her own death, multiple times after a long and arduous divorce process. In truth, he doesn’t have much going for him, save for a solid teaching job and a great eagerness for helping his students. It’s unfortunate then, that his skills in education do not translate to other areas of his life. While not a bad teacher by any means, where most excel in social cues and the concepts of human interaction, Roger Harrington lacks. 

In short, Mr. Harrington does not know when to shut up.

It’s a fact that has grated on many of his students over the years, Peter especially. That’s not to say that he dislikes the man. Mr. Harrington is one of the few teachers that he’s ever known to truly care about their students. Though, it can be said that even though his efforts are certainly appreciated, there’s only so much ridiculousness that Peter—and to be sure, all of his classmates—can stand in one sitting. 

Peter’s lips press together into a tight smile, giving an apologetic nod to his new friend—narrowly missing the pointed glare MJ throws his way—as they watch their team sponsor put on a set of bowling gloves. Peter’s face twists into one of defensive confusion. At that, MJ only rolls her eyes, continuing forward to the main counter to rent their shoes. 

Harry, however, seems blissfully unaware of the exchange, much less the way everyone had seemed to bristle at the ramblings of Mr. Harrington. The new student still smiles from ear to ear, more than happy to be invited along for a fun night with new friends, not questioning as Peter guides the five of them to the empty lane to the right. 

\--

“Wow, man,” Harry says, holding his hand out for a congratulatory high-five after Peter’s fourth strike in a row. “You’re really good at this.”

Peter shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eyes seeing the way Michelle rolls hers as she steps up to grab her ball. 

“Careful, Harry,” MJ starts as she stares down the lane. “Don’t compliment Peter too much.”

A sly, lopsided grin pulls at Peter’s lips. “What? Worried my head’s getting too big?”

“Here we go...” Ned huffs.

“No, not really—” She bowls, keeping her eyes on the ball as it rolls toward the pins. “I was thinking more along the lines of you hearing it enough already from everyone else.” Six pins down. “Actually, come to think of it, I  _ am _ a little worried. What if your head finally catches up with your ears?”

Peter's smile drops.  “Hey!” He gasps, his expression melting into a dramatic pout as he brings a hand to his wounded heart, ignoring the surprised snorts of Ned, Betty, and Harry behind him. “Not cool.”

Michelle gives him a gentle tap on the arm, one that seems to say _ I’m only kidding, dude. I’m sorry. Let’s be friends. _ Instantly, he forgives her, his hand brushing hers, though in all honesty he doesn’t feel as though there’s anything  _ to _ forgive. This was their way, and even if it wasn’t, she was still his friend; one that he’s sure he could never stay mad at. Bickering back and forth, teasing jabs made here and there just to rile the other up, and it had been that way ever since they first became friends. 

Which reminds him—

Even though he forgives her, he doesn’t let her off that easily.

“I remember—” He starts, falling back into his chair, speaking mostly to their friends.  _ “You _ saying that you thought my ears were cute.”

“When did I say that?” She throws a skeptical glare over her shoulder—both at Peter and at their giggling audience—as she holds the bowling ball up. 

Peter puts on a triumphant, bragging grin. “First grade.”

“That was  _ first grade,” _ she counters, remembering now. “And I said you looked like a mouse.”

“Mice are cute.”

“Hey MJ?” Ned cuts in before she can say anything else. “Can you—you know… bowl?”

Michelle doesn’t dignify that with any sort of response—her mouth twisting as she bites back an amused smirk—ignoring Peter’s last argument as she bowls again, knocking the final four pins down for a spare. She tips her head at him as she walks back to her seat. He sticks his tongue out at her. 

Perhaps Parker is right in that mice are certainly  _ cute, _ but she’s not about to say that aloud. 

“Well—” Ned coughs, standing up and making his way to the machine. “If you guys are done, I’ll just—go head and take my turn. If that’s alright.” His tone is laced with a playful sarcasm, one that causes Peter to roll his own eyes as he sits back in his chair next to Harry. 

“You guys aren’t mad at each other, are you?” Harry asks to Peter, his voice just barely above a whisper. 

Peter shakes his head, waving him off with a huff of a laugh. “Nah. We’re just… playing around. That’s kinda our thing. You’ll get used to it.”

Harry’s worry melts into an easy smile as he nods, breathing out a small sigh of relief. “Oh, okay. Good.” 

The clattering sound of Ned’s ball knocking over three more pins followed by the excited squeals and cheers from Betty as she runs up from behind to wrap her arms around him fills the bowling alley, bouncing off the bright neon floors. Peter smiles, positively buzzing at seeing the way his best friend’s face lightens the room when Betty places a proud kiss on his cheek. Ned’s score certainly isn’t the most impressive in the game, but that’s not really what matters. 

When Betty gets up to bowl, Ned acts in almost the exact same way, her ever-enthusiastic hype-man when she throws the ball  _ granny-style _ down the lane, still cheering her on as it shifts too far to the right, only knocking down two of the corner pins. When she turns with a pout, Ned encourages her again with a  _ you can do it, babe! _

Deep down, Peter can’t help but feel pride at how he’s the one to have orchestrated this, that he’s the one who pushed Ned into Betty. He really is the perfect wingman, and he finds himself wondering when the next opportunity will show itself. 

But his thoughts are cut off by a pair of hands suddenly covering his eyes, a soft, feminine sing-song voice in his ear—

“Guess who!”

Both Peter and Harry jump, Peter letting out a mildly embarrassing yelp at the scare. But then, he has to laugh, knowing who exactly would be able to sneak up on him so effectively. “Felicia?” He asks, leaning his head on the back of the chair and toward the culprit.

“Lucky guess.” Felicia chuckles, removing her hands and looking down, her lips twisting into a smirk as she gives him a playful boop on the tip of his nose. In the next instant, she moves away from him, nonchalant and friendly as ever. “Sup guys?”

Michelle gives a single nod, her lips pressing into a thin, polite smile. 

Ned and Betty, of course, almost don’t even notice her, but they look up from making googly eyes at each other long enough to say a quick, “Oh hi, Felicia.”

Harry only offers a single, shy wave. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she says after a beat. “Gymnastics went on a lot longer today because Jess decided she didn’t like the way my floor routine was looking,” she says with an exasperated grin. “Is it okay if I join your game?”

Peter waves a hand. “Sure! We can start up a new game after I finish _destroying_ everyone in this one."

Harry snorts. 

“Oh!” Peter remembers himself and his manners. “Felicia, this is Harry." He gestures vaguely between the two of them. “Harry, this is Felicia.”

Felicia flashes a pretty smile, throwing in a subtle wink. “Hey, Harry.”

Harry seems to blush under her gaze, and he stumbles a little on his returning  _ “hello”  _ as he glances away. It’s not an entirely uncommon reaction to the girl. Felicia Hardy is undeniably a perfect ten. She’s brilliant, funny, charming, and not to mention incredibly attractive. Her charisma in all that she does is almost unmatched. There’s a certain mystery to her as well, the way she talks, the way she holds herself, the way her eyes always seem to have a sly glint in them, something that draws in whoever speaks to her. 

“Awesome. Well,” Felicia stands upright. “I’m gonna go get my shoes, Peter—” She knocks him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Where do I do that? I’ve never been here.”

“Oh, I’ll show you,” Peter says, jumping up from his chair. “Harry, can you bowl for me? I’d ask MJ, but I feel like she’ll sabotage my score or something,” he asks, then jokes.

Harry nods.

Michelle only glances up from behind her phone, quirking a single brow, her mouth set into an unimpressed frown. “That’s a safe bet,” she says dryly. 

Peter scoffs before leading Felicia away from the group and to the shoe rental counter. 

“So that Harry kid,” she starts after giving the clerk her size, leaning on the edge of the counter, tilting her head in curiosity. “Is he new?”

“Yeah,” Peter replies. “He moved here from Chicago.” 

And it’s then, as Peter turns to look at his new friend in question, seeing the boy smile as soon as he notices them—that the same metaphorical light bulb that had appeared over his head not two weeks ago appears once again. Turning back to see Felicia returning with a smirk only reinforces this budding idea, and his stomach does a happy cartwheel at the realization. 

“He’s really cool, though,” Peter continues casually. “Super nice, too.” 

“He seems sweet,” Felicia agrees.

“Hey, could you—” Peter’s gaze darts right and left before he leans closer, lowering his voice slightly, using everything in his power to hide the giddiness bubbling underneath his tone. “Could you make sure he’s having fun? Since he’s new and everything, I just want him to feel welcome, you know?”

“Oh yeah! Totally.” She nods earnestly, seemingly surprised that he'd even have to ask in the first place. 

“Thanks,” Peter replies, his shoulders relaxing. 

“Of course, man.” Her voice comes out in an almost-purr. “Anything for you, Pete.”

With a beaming grin, Peter looks back at his friend once more, his heart soaring seeing Harry smile shyly when he notices them for a second time.

Felicia is the perfect person to bring Harry out of his shell. Everything about them compliments the other unbelievably well; Peter’s almost mad he hadn’t thought of it sooner. Her sheer charisma, her unparalleled confidence matched with his quiet, gentle disposition. They would complete each other. Truly, Peter has to stop himself from actually, physically patting himself on the back at such a match. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Felicia give Harry a flirtatious wave in return.

Peter has work to do. 

\--

“Poor Ned!” 

The words are said with such dramatic sarcasm, they almost pass into the realm of being the slightest bit believable. May sighs wistfully, grabbing her car keys from her purse before slinging the bag over her shoulder, taking a moment to pause and “collect” herself. 

“Poor Ned?” Peter asks, brows pinching together in confusion. 

(The sarcasm had slipped into  _ his _ realm of believability.)

(Meanwhile, Harry is snickering on the other side of the table while MJ’s trying to hide the way the corner of her mouth twitches upward, the two of them burying their noses in their homework.)

“Yes, poor Ned!” May insists. “He’s missing out on Thai night!” She shakes her head. “I knew this would happen.” 

At some point, in the midst of her act, Peter seems to catch on, and he finds himself sparing a huff of laughter. “Date night is pretty sacred, though.”

“Instead of hanging out with us, he has to sit with a beautiful girl all evening.”

“He’ll survive.”

May ruffles her nephews hair. “I know, but—” She places her hand on her hip, looking down at him as if she were scolding a young child. “I’m gonna need you to stop this—this  _ Yente  _ thing. This—making predictions. Somehow, they always end up coming true. I can’t lose another one of my kids.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I won’t make any predictions for me,” Peter promises with a cheeky smile. 

And that much is true. Peter has no intentions of going steady, much less even trying. He’d tried that earlier in the semester. With Liz Allan—or as he’d come to know, Liz Allan- _ Toomes _ . After a solid semester-and-a-half of pining, she’d agreed to go to a dance with him, only for him to ditch her at the last second due to her father being a nasty, thieving supervillain that he needed to stop. Since that night, Liz hasn’t said much to him, much less acknowledged him, apart from the occasional awkward tight-lipped smile, always finding an excuse _not_ to talk to him. And truthfully, she has every right to not want to talk to him. He knows full well that it’s warranted. He doesn’t blame her. 

It's awkward for both sides.

With the emotional toll of her father awaiting trial in a maximum security prison, Liz had made the tough decision to step down from the Acadec team, instead taking her time to focus on college apps and finishing up her senior year. 

Now, Peter rarely sees her, save for the few times in passing in the hallway and at lunch. 

May laughs with a subtle roll of her eyes as she makes her way to the door. “Be back in fifteen. With food!” 

The door clicks shut behind her, and the three of them continue to work on their statistics homework. Peter sits there, tapping his pencil rhythmically against the table, his fingers drumming against his cheek as he rests his head in his hand; every so often he spares a glance to Harry, watching as the other boy works through a particularly troubling problem. 

Peter feels as if he’s about to fly out of his seat. Realistically, he knows that this is something he’ll have to play cool. This isn’t like the situation with Ned and Betty where he could just shove one of them into the other. For one, Harry’s so perpetually nervous that Peter’s worried something like that would break him, and well… The likelihood of Felicia being into the whole romantic comedy trope of the two leads crashing into one another is slim.

But... While Peter knows that he has to remain calm, he cannot help himself.

“Dude! Did I tell you what Felicia said about you the other night? At the bowling alley?” Peter asks softly, his tone full of hushed excitement. 

Harry glances up at him, doing a double-take before finally meeting his eyes. “No… You—you didn’t.” He looks down again, cracking a shy smile. “What did she say?”

Peter passes a side-eyed glance to MJ, and he can’t help but feel the slightest bit annoyed at how she’s now watching the exchange with narrowed eyes. He simply brushes her off. “I heard her tell Cindy that she thought you were the coolest person she’d talked to all night _. _ ”

In reality, she’d said nothing of the sort, but Peter knew that in order to get Harry to start thinking of Felicia in that way, he’d have to do  _ something _ a little drastic. _A gentle nudge._ Besides, he severely doubts it will matter much in the long run anyway. From the way she’d been acting at the bowling alley, Peter could tell that Felicia was interested. 

So, his little non-truth was completely harmless. 

A faint blush creeps up Harry’s face as his eyes turn down to his homework again. “Oh—” Is all he’s able to get out at first. When he looks up again, Peter raises his eyebrows encouragingly. 

Michelle scoffs, a sound that goes unnoticed by the two boys at the table. 

“She’s pretty...ah—cool. She’s cool. Pretty cool,” Harry finally says, his grin bashful. 

Peter bites back a good-natured laugh. 

After a beat, Harry continues under his breath. “And she’s really pretty.”

At that, Peter looks up, not surprised to find Michelle squinting at him. He cocks his head, challenging her, but after a beat, she looks back down again, going back to her homework. 

And he considers that a win. 

There’s no possible way that MJ can argue against this. 

\--

But that in itself proves to be far from the truth. Michelle has many ways that she can argue against this whole thing, and there’s not a moment that she’s in the same room as them that she’s not thinking of one. Still, as sure as she is, she still feels as though she needs a second opinion. She needs a sense of validation in her disapproval. She’s not insecure in her beliefs by any means, but she has a desire to know if their mutual friend feels the same way. 

It’s at lunch the very next day, when Peter and Harry get up to go and talk to Felicia again, and Betty’s gone to the library, when she gets that opportunity. 

“I don’t like this whole Peter and Harry business,” she says, seemingly out of the blue judging from Ned’s reaction. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, thoroughly confused. "You don't think they should be friends?"

"No... Not that. Just—" She narrows her eyes as she looks at the two boys talking to Felicia, watching as Peter awkwardly knocks his shoulder against Harry’s, pushing him closer to the girl. Michelle points her french fry at them. _“That_. I don’t like that.” 

Ned frowns, surprised. “Really? I think it’s great that they're friends.”

“Okay, but _how_ can you not see what Peter's doing here, though? ” She fixes him with an incredulous stare. 

“MJ, MJ, MJ…” Ned trails off, the slow, lighthearted laugh coming out of him making Michelle want to flip the table. “As you know, I have a girlfriend now. Her name is Betty, and she’s amazing. She’s a beautiful, smart, talented woman, and—as a new man—I need to be able to meet her half-way. Love… It’s a two-way street—”

Michelle stares, not at all surprised that Ned's ignored the question entirely.

“—And that doesn’t mean I can’t hang out with you guys any more. But—” He shrugs, chuckling lightly. “Peter needs another friend.”

She narrows her eyes, jerking her head back in slight offense. “I’m his friend.”

It’s Ned’s turn for the pointed stare. “Okay, yeah but when’s the last time you spent an entire evening building a LEGO set with him? Where were you for the  _ Tower of Orthanc?” _

She purses her lips. “I was there.” 

“Yeah. You were _ reading.  _ The _ whole _ time. You maybe put, like, one piece on.”

Her expression drops. “Fair.”

“And besides,” Ned shakes his head fondly. “Peter misses me. I get it.”

Michelle facepalms. “Oh my God.”

“And—and—and!” Ned butts in. “It’s good for Harry, too. He’s new, and that’s scary. Peter’s the perfect guy to show him around!” 

“Okay, yeah, Peter’s friendly, whatever—" _And sweet, and kind—_ "but—” 

_And dumb..._

She looks up again, seeing as Felicia laughs at something Harry said, one of her hands coming up to steady herself on Peter’s shoulder. She watches as Harry then looks to Peter, mimicking his stance. And as she watches, she can’t help but feel pity for the new student, their new friend. She wouldn’t call him naive by following the other boy so blindly—not by any means—as it’s not really his fault he got attached to Peter on his first day. But then again, if he couldn’t see how totally clueless Peter was from the beginning, perhaps he did deserve that title. 

Michelle shakes her head, waving it off, going back to munch quietly on her fries. For the life of her, she can’t really find it in herself to explain this to Ned when he already shows such blind loyalty and faith.

That, and Harry and Peter have started to walk back to their table. 

“It’s nothing,” Michelle mutters before popping another fry into her mouth. 

Ned doesn’t seem to believe her, though he accepts the answer with a shrug, returning to his lunch. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

She only offers a halfhearted half-smile in return, knowing full well that she’s going to worry “too much” about it. All of it. How Ned cannot see what’s happening right in front of them is baffling. Really, she should have known that Peter wouldn’t listen to her, that he’d keep meddling in other people’s lives just because he’s bored with his—which is one thing she does not understand; how can Peter be bored  _ and _ be Spider-Man  _ at the same time? _ Isn’t that the hero shit he likes? Why does he have to put all his time and energy into setting people up?

And, along those lines, she feels a sense of dread festering in her stomach as they come back, Harry throwing a timid wave over his shoulder at the girl across the cafeteria. If Peter’s intending to match up Harry with who she thinks he is… 

Felicia Hardy is the farthest from what’s good for Harry Osborn. 

No, contrary to what Ned’s just told her to do, she  _ is _ going to worry about it. 

_ Too much.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooo badly done peter
> 
> lmao thanks for reading! as always, kudos and comments are treasured forever and ever <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! sorry this chapter took a little longer, but it's here now! Thank you to everyone reading, commenting, and leaving kudos! This story is slowly becoming one of my favorites to write, so I'm so happy to see you guys enjoying it!!

Indeed, there's no doubt in Peter's mind that his influence over Harry is for the better. The initial sense of insecurity has slowly disappeared from Harry's smiles as he laughs and jokes with his new friends. While Peter isn't typically one to pat himself on the back, he likes to think that it all has to do with both Ned and him taking the nervous new student under their collective wings. 

As for both the metaphorical and non-metaphorical elbow nudge he'd provided Harry in the direction of one Felicia Hardy, who by her very nature seems to assure the boys of her interest, Peter has no regrets in the slightest. MJ might have shown her disapproval at his apartment that one night, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she always does. Still, as per usual, Peter is able to brush the negativity off with ease. 

Again, what does MJ know?

She doesn't see how Felicia smiles and flirts with Harry, how she tosses and twirls her hair as she talks to him. There are sly winks thrown in passing that no one but Peter can possibly notice. She always makes an excuse to come to sit with them. There's always some comment she has to make as she walks by them. When Harry attempts a joke, she laughs candidly, her hand coming to gently push his arm, the touch lingering every so often. With all of this evidence right under his very nose, Peter is 100% certain that Felicia is absolutely smitten with the new kid. 

And he's approximately 110% certain that Harry feels the same way, as that's all he's been able to talk about for the past few days. 

Including today, as they enter the library for their free-period study hall. Harry rambles on—quietly as not to anger the librarian, Ms. Goddard—beaming as he recounts how Felicia had given the contour drawing of his palm a solid thumbs up in art class. "Ugh, and then… I think I saw her wink at me? I don't know. Maybe? But she definitely smiled."

"I know, Harry—" Peter smiles fondly. "—I was there." 

Harry lets out a sheepish chuckle. "Oh. Yeah. Right." He opens his mouth again, perhaps to continue with his rant, but he cuts himself off. His smile grows wider as his attention's caught by someone else in the library. 

Peter follows his friend's gaze, confused as to what's got him so distracted. His own eyes widen at the sight of Liz Allan sitting alone at one of the tables, her nose buried in one of her oversized textbooks. It also comes as a surprise to see Harry immediately rush forward, his steps slowing with trepidation. He shyly waves at the girl to get her attention. 

A warm smile lights up Liz's face as she looks up at Harry, though just as quickly as it appears, it's gone the moment Peter catches up to them. Now, she looks to them with thinly-pressed lips with the slightest upward curve, and the silence that follows is punctuated by the ticking clock on the wall beside them. 

"Hey, Liz," Peter offers, being the first to confidently speak up. 

Her lips press further together into a polite smile, and she gives a single nod, her eyes meeting his for less than a second. "Hey, Peter."

Another beat passes, Harry staring down at his hands, seemingly trying to muster up the same courage to speak. Peter glances between the two of them, brows knit together, mouth parted in slight confusion. Liz angles her body away from them. She offers another brief smile before occupying herself with turning the pages of her book. However, she doesn't seem to be reading them. 

"Did you finish calc?" Harry finally spits out, his fingers drumming against the book he holds tightly against him. 

Liz manages a quick glance, a flash of what Peter sees as a grimace-turned-smile on her face as she replies. "Uh, yeah. I did." 

Peter's not sure what's going on here, and he's not entirely sure that he wants to stay any longer to try and figure it out. He knows if he's going to get any information from this, it's not here in front of Liz's table. Gently, he nudges Harry's arm with his elbow, the action earning a look of confusion from his friend. 

Clearing his throat, Peter starts to step away. "Well, see you later, Liz."

"Yeah," is all she manages to get out before both boys are gone. 

Peter leads Harry far away from Liz's table. He waits until they're both seated and Harry has his Spanish notebook out before he starts his investigation. "You have calc with Liz?"

Harry startles slightly before shyly looking back down at his chicken-scratch notes. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do." He starts absently scribbling light circles into the margins of the paper. "She's pretty cool. Just thought I'd say hi. I mean, I'd say it was weird seeing her here, but—" He holds back a nervous snort. "—It's not… Because she goes here."

At first, Peter's confused—as he's been for the past five minutes—but then, it suddenly hits him. He's seen that timid, air-knocked-right-out-of-you look before, that inane, barely coherent rambling that comes from being too lovesick to contribute as a barely functioning human. That was him not too long ago. Almost as instantly as the initial confusion leaves, he's hit with pity for his friend. "Dude, do you like Liz?"

The question seems to surprise Harry enough that he almost falls out of his chair. He lets out a breathy laugh at the blunder, balancing himself as he looks back to his friend. "What? I mean—she's… she's great and everything. And—and really pretty, and… and cool. But—um… why do you ask?" He sits forward in his chair, brow furrowing as his mouth presses into a thin line. "Do—do you think she might like me?"

Truly, Peter wishes he had a better answer, one that wouldn't immediately crush Harry's fragile spirit. "I don't know, man…" He flinches. "I mean—I… I kinda got this awkward vibe." He shrugs, before rushing to continue. "Again, I don't know."

Harry nods thoughtfully, looking down. "Yeah, I got that, too…" He laughs lightly, though the sound is more dejected than anything happy. "I didn't know it was me, though…"

"Oh no, I'm sure it didn't have anything to do with you," Peter hurries to reassure him, or at least attempts to. Though, he pauses a moment, unsure of what to say next. The idea of his friend getting himself hurt doesn't sit well. In all honesty, Peter's finding it hard to find any way to let him down lightly without hurting his feelings. It takes a solid ten seconds of calculating silence before he opens his mouth again, semi-confident in his next choice of words.

"You're a great guy," Peter continues, his mouth pulling into a half-smile, knowing.  _ "Felicia _ thinks so."

Again, Harry looks down at his notebook, the doodles littering the page. "You think?" There's a glimmer of hope in his tone, timid and bashful as it is. 

"Come on, man," Peter goes on to lightly tease. "You see the way she looks at you. Remember art class?"

Harry huffs out a faint chuckle as he's reminded of his earlier rambling. "Yeah… Yeah…" He sighs wistfully, though his grin doesn't leave. "I just… I need to remember not to get my hopes up, you know?"

Peter nods, understanding, before nudging his friend gently. "Oh, trust me, dude—" He sits back in his chair, the expression on his face knowing and kind. "—I don't think you're gonna have to worry about that."

\--

For Peter, he sees no reason for that particular sentiment to be untrue. As the week passes, he happily watches as the two lovebirds inch closer and closer together. Though their interactions are still primarily orchestrated by his own hand, it's impossible to miss how Felicia's eyes sparkle when Harry stammers out even the most bumbling of sentences to her, nor the way Harry seems to bounce on his heels anytime she's near. 

The latter proves to be no different, even now in art class, in a moment where being motionless is of the utmost importance.

The previous week in Mrs. Taylor's class had been on contour drawing; this week, the subject was portraits. For the first day, they are to partner up, one person draws the other, and then switch the following class period. They aren't large portraits, only about the size of an eight-by-eleven photograph, but they still prove to be more difficult than any of them had anticipated. 

Especially when  _ someone _ —that someone being Peter's subject—won't stop throwing pining glances as Felicia as she draws Cindy. 

"You gotta stay still, dude," Peter reminds Harry through a chuckle, his pencil stilling just above the drawing pad.

Harry lets out a harsh breath of air, nodding his head quickly before shaking his limbs to get the jitters out. "Sorry. Sorry."

"S'okay," Peter responds with a faint huff of a laugh. His expression fades as he goes back to concentrating, his mouth twisting in thought as he looks between his subject and the paper. Tilting his head to the side, he pauses a moment to calculate his next move. With a resolute nod, he continues tracing fine lines, adding a few finishing touches to the eyes. 

Drawing has never been one of Peter's talents. It's never been easy for him to pick up; he's never understood the idea of drawing what you see. Steadiness had always been wanting. Music might have been better suited to him. Although he doesn't consider himself an artist, he finds art to be a fun activity. He would not say it's relaxing, by any means, but he can certainly see why someone as good at is as MJ is might find it that way. 

That being said, he finds that he's exceedingly proud of this portrait of his friend. It may not be an exact likeness, but it's probably one of the better things he's drawn in class. The nose is too lopsided, the chin is too pointy, and those are the only things that immediately jump out to Peter. But even with its flaws, It's sure to get a B+. Perhaps even an A-. 

As the clock ticks closer to the bell, the students around him start to stir, the noises of rustling backpacks and zippers filling the room as they gather their things. But Peter still needs to do a few finishing touches, something about the eyes not quite sitting right. Something is wrong here, but he's not sure what. 

"Oh my God," Felicia's voice is suddenly behind Peter. He's surprised Harry hadn't noticed her first. "That looks awesome, Pete!" 

Despite his surprise, Peter doesn't startle. He smiles easily, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "You think so?"

"Duh," Felicia gently smacks him with the back of her hand. "Harry looks so good!" 

At that, Peter's knowing eyes dart up to meet Harry's timid, bashful ones. 

"You've made his eyes too big," he hears someone deadpan before he can answer Felicia's question, and he has to fight the way his eyes want to roll right out of their sockets and onto the floor. 

On his other side, MJ's come to stand, looking over his shoulder at the drawing. Her gaze is critical, scrutinizing, yet there's the faintest teasing glint to them. 

Felicia lets out an amused huff at Michelle's critique. "What? No. Not too big. Not too big at all." She smiles at Harry. "They're perfect."

MJ turns her head away, perhaps to hide a smile. 

Peter knows Michelle's right, but he's not about to admit that. 

Suddenly, Felicia's entire face lights up with an idea. "Wait! When you finish it, we should totally get it hung up in the school somewhere!"

Peter throws a discrete, if not a little confused, smile at Harry before turning to look at her. "Really?" He asks. 

"Oh, yeah!" She beams. "Mrs. Taylor is always looking for ways to show off the art around here." Then, she gasps another idea. "Let me take it to her! I can get a frame for it and everything." 

"Wow," Peter breathes. "That'd be… That'd be awesome! Thanks, Felicia!"

Harry shyly looks down at his hands, biting back his smile. "Yeah, thanks."

The girl grins right back at them, squinting slightly, so pleased with herself. "No problem," she replies with a nudge to Harry's shoulder. Throwing a final, subtle wink, she makes for her own table again, grabbing her bag as the bell rings. 

Peter instantly spins to face his friend. "Dude, this is going so well. She's so into you!" He whispers excitedly, putting the draft of his art into his backpack. There haven't been many moments in Peter's life that he's been proud of, but this is definitely the exception. The fact that Felicia is so blatantly showing her interest is undoubtedly something to be celebrated. Now, there's absolutely no question to her feelings whatsoever. 

Letting out a sheepish laugh, Harry scratches the back of his neck. 

In Peter and Harry's giddy, schoolboy excitement, they don't see MJ's exasperated, deadpan stare. She turns away from them, almost as if she's looking into a camera on a mockumentary. 

Harry is only able to manage a modest shrug. He opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, seemingly unable to form any sort of human sentence. 

"I'm so happy for you, man." Peter gives him a firm, congratulatory pat on the shoulder before swinging the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. "Now, we just have to find a way for you guys to hang out solo..." Peter muses.

Harry follows in grabbing his things, trailing behind his friend as they leave the classroom. MJ walks next to them, staying silent. 

Peter wracks his brain for anything, any event coming up. Again, he knows that he has to approach this differently from Ned and Betty; pushing Harry into Felicia wouldn't be his first, and far from his best, choice. It has to be at another group outing, that much Peter knows. While Felicia may be making her intentions clear, he still doesn't want to do anything that might scare her off. No, it has to be with the others. That way, Harry and Felicia can sneak off together. 

It's more romantic that way, Peter reasons. 

Also, he figures it's a safe way for him to keep an eye on Harry if he needs any help. 

MJ might have something to say about that. It's like she knows what he's thinking, too, based on how she keeps throwing glances at him from behind her bangs. 

He knows that she'll probably talk to Ned about this at some point soon. She always does. Of course, neither of them has ever admitted to these secret rant sessions, but he knows that they exist. Who else would she bring such trivial matters to? Betty? He knows that they're friends, but he doubts that they're as close as she and Ned are. 

Suddenly, Peter stops, just outside his locker, the idea hitting him like a truck. "Betty's birthday party!" 

Harry looks at him for a moment, his brows slightly pinched. "What?"

Michelle seems to see where this is going, and she leaves before she can get too involved. 

"Ask Felicia to go to Betty's birthday party with you!" Another excellent idea. All in one day, too! A party is a perfect place for a budding romance, and Betty's Winter Wonderland Birthday will be no exception. "This weekend, right? You're going?"

"Yeah..." Harry nods slowly. "So... I should just..."

Peter tips his head forward, silently encouraging him to continue. 

"Ask her to go with me? Like... as a date?" 

A smile breaks across Peter's features as he lets out a breath he'd been holding. "Yes! Exactly!" His voice lowers. "Honestly—" He shrugs. "—I feel like she's probably expecting it?"

At that, Harry grins. "Yeah?"

"I mean," Peter starts, tilting his head from side to side. "I wouldn't be surprised, I guess." 

"Do people go to parties as dates?" Harry asked, now struck with a sense of confusion. 

Peter nods vigorously. "Oh, yeah. Definitely," he responds, though he's unsure as to whether or not that's actually true, having no real experience himself beside the one school dance with Liz. Even so, the notion doesn't seem too impossible. 

And even if Harry isn't able to muster up the courage to ask Felicia, a party is still an excellent opportunity to get to know one another even more. It works out either way. 

Harry gives a single nod, mouth quirking into a satisfied frown. There's still that shy, anxious edge to his tone as he speaks. "Sounds—sounds good!" 

"Hey." Peter grins easily, giving his friend another quick pat on the back before starting for his next class. "You got this. I believe in you, man," he says over his shoulder. 

Harry gives an enthusiastic, giddy thumbs up. "Thanks!" 

Peter’s no doubt telling the truth. His faith in his friend at this point is immeasurable, too great to even comprehend. The small, yet triumphant smile never leaves his face as he enters his next class, the expression nearly impossible to bite back. 

The plan is foolproof. 

In his mind, there's no way that this can  _ possibly _ go wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr @spiderman-homecomeme and on twitter @smhomecomeme!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked the first chapter! Let me know your thoughts!! I always appreciate any comments and kudos! <3


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